Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-10-09
ST. BERNARD'S MONKS
A TorLsomK MIDSUMMER VISIT 10
THEIR ALPINE H0sPICE.
Hospitality that Knews Neither Face
Eor creed-splendid
Dogs.

Hospitality that Knows Neither Face
Eor Creed-splendid
Dogs.
Who has not read of ST. Bernard pass
between Switzerland and Italy? The
mss which Hannibal and Cesar
and Napoleon have made memora..
BILE for all time. The deeds OF
bravery, the heroic sacrifices OF the
monks Of st. Bernard the wonder
ful sagacity Of the dogs, the record
of lives saved, and the thrilling histo-
ries of adventure all come back to the
traveller as he pauses to rest at the last
inhabited village-the Bougg st.
Pierre-before starting on into the
Wilderness, as yet five hours from the
warmth and comfort of the hospice.
On our journey up the mountain,
SAYS correspondent of the New York
sun. the miserable poverty Of the vii
lagos and people impressed us strongly,
living huddled closely together In low
log or stucco huts, dirty, poor, SICK.
After leaving the vineyards there seem
ed little means Of livelihood in the ste
rile, rocky soil, and the number OF
idiots gathered about the village foun-
tains and corners of the streets were
MOST PTrIFUL TO BEHOLD.
Here at st. Pierre we were glad to
find fewer beggars, more healthtul at
mosphere. and at the inn, dcJeuRcr dc
NAPOLEON, a tolerable luncheon was
served. We had started ct 5 A. NJ, yet
here at st. Pierre they told US our
tourney had Just commenced, as they
exchanged our horses for mules, while
the whole population gathered to see
us of. | noticed our guide--a lank
fellow, in blue blouse and bonnet-strap
on nv mule heavy woollen coat. This
coat did good service later, for after
leaving ST. Pierre the snow-clad noun
taips grew unpleasantly near to us, and
the cold winds from the Glacier du
Valsorey swept down the gorge across
our path hewn from the solid rock, and
vhistled in and out among The pines
below.
An hour later found lis at the Cantine
de Proz. a lonely hut on the border of
a rocky plane, where the cattle OF the
hospice are pastured. We saw some OF
the COWS and goats, with their bells and
buckles, grazing on the scanty grass
and herbs. We paused a moment
at the stone chalets, where the monks
make their butter and cheese for winter
use-a regular Alpine dairy-fresh and
neat and clean. At this point the road
ends. The traveller leaves the last sign
of human life behind him, and here
we buttoned our coats tightly across
our chests, turned up our collars, and
went out across the plain to the dreary
Vallee des Morris valley Of death) be-
yond. The sun had disappeared the
cold was intense. From the great
rocky basin ia front of us there seemed
to be no escape, walled in as It was by
surrounding masses of cllf-bare,
Grand. awiul-shnttiag us in like the
| end of the world, with a stiffness 50
| vast thot il could almost be heard, a
sense Of loneliness and desolation be-
yond all description, and yet kind OF
fascination deeper than awe for the
great solitude. Perhaps this is the
fascination which has led men to shun
human society and follow a life which
We of the world can never compre-
bend.
We found at last the pass, hidden
among the great boulders, which here,
in the middle of July, was half-choked
with dlifted snow. We crossed icy
streams-small glaciers in their way
the frozen surface firm, while water
rushed beneath. We scrambled over
broken masses Of rock, hurled by some
freak of nature from the heights above,
and up through Jagged defiles.
Yet it was curious to see IN all this
bleakness how the flowers sprouted up
whenever there was an opening. Al
most under the snowdrifts we gathered
them-fragrant violets, tender yellow
anemones, and Alpine roses. We
sometimes stepped from q bank OF
snow on to carpet OF closely
growing flowers. The effect was mar
yellous. For three hours We jour
neyed thus, when, suddenly the guide
called our attention to the setting
sun. The mountain-peaks were aglow
with rosy light upon their now-capped
SUBMITS. will not try to describe 1t.
One must see il to understand. a mo-
ment later, turning bend in the gorge,
we saw the hospice of Mount st. Ber-
nard, a mass Of cold gray-stone against
the purple SKY, unutterably lonely,
weird, desolate among those bald rocks,
ice bound cataracts, and snow-capped
mountains. This was the middle OF
summer, and We were shiyering from
head to foot. What must it be in win
ter?
TILE BROTHERHOOD
consists of about forty members, the
inmates of this monastery being fifteen
OF twenty Augustine monks, most OF
them under thirty. Some looked mere
boys. After fifteen years OF service
the severity of the climate uhdermine'
their constitutions, and they are com
PEELED to descend to milder climates
below. Their office is to receive anC
lodge strangers gratuitously and t
render assistance to travellers 10 DANCE
dunng the snowy season, which here
lasts about nine months. In this worl
of benevolence they are aided by th'
famous st. Bernard dogs, whose keeI
sense of smell enables them to tract
AID discover travellers buried in tn
snow, numbers of whom are rescued b,
these noble animals.
Our first impression of the hospic
was of some ruined chateau. Their
we're beggars hanging on the outskirt
and paupers gathered about the arche'
doorway young Italians with pack
on their backs, mountaineers returned
from the hunt with guns and game
bags, guides, young Englishmel
"tramping it" through the Alps, AM
wanderers like ourselves, all alike wei
coined by the great glowing lanter
which shed its rays far into the pass o.
either side. / was not astonished .wheI
the young priest told me later that ofte
they have lodged 600 strangers Of
night under that hospitable roof.
lie Pere Joseph Luisier" was il
charge. Young, full of action, energ
written in every line of the figure be
meath the long black cassock, he cam
forward to meet us cautiously. Ha